The Prelude and its Promise - Sermon on Matthew 3:1-12

Listen to the Sermon here: 

Matthew 3:1-12

1 In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, ² "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." ³ This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: "Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.' " ⁴ Now John wore clothing of camel's hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. ⁵ Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, ⁶ and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. ⁷ But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? ⁸ Bear fruit worthy of repentance. ⁹ Do not presume to say to yourselves, "We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. ¹⁰ Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. ¹¹ "I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. ¹² His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

SERMON

When Sarah and I first met, we quickly discovered our mutual affection for all things Broadway.  We both spent some time working in our local school or community theaters growing up, and musical theater was an important part of our life.   So, when we first started dating, we started a Sunday night tradition, where Sarah would come over to the apartment to watch a Broadway musical on DVD.  And we didn’t just watch the DVD, we would belt out each tune to the top of our lungs, singing along with the musical. Sarah was always partial to Little Shop of Horrors because she played Audrey in high school.  That’s the musical about Seymour, a bumbling, geeky florist who discovers a talking venus fly trap. The plant thrives off human blood and begins to grow. Ya know what, that’s irrelevant to the point of this sermon.  If you want to discuss Broadway musicals in more detail, see me after worship.     

A few weeks into our tradition, it became a running joke for our friends from upstairs to text us and guess which musical we’re watching based on our singing.  Then they would ask us to stop singing.  

Actually, one of our first dates was to the local community theater in Columbia, SC to see Les Misérables.  So good.

Our affection for broadway musicals is deep, and so naturally we feel a responsibility to pass on the joy and beauty of musicals to Bennet.   I don’t sit down at the piano at home as often as I’d like, but when I do, I try and play a lot of show tunes. Bennet requests them. 

About three weeks ago, Sarah and I started our vacation by going to the Times Union center to see Wicked.   Anyone seen Wicked? An incredible musical written by Stephen Schwartz.  

It’s the story of Elpheba, the Wicked Witch of the West, and it’s told in parallel to the classic story the Wizard of Oz.   

So, in preparation for the musical that night, as we typically do, we were listening to the soundtrack as we cooked dinner.  Bennet and I were at the table. I was working. He was eating. And when the overture started, I found myself teaching Bennet about the musical.  “Bennet,” I said, “This is the beginning of the show. It’s sort of like a prelude, but in theater we call it an overture.”  

For most folks, it’s a signal that the show has started and soon actors will appear on stage.  It may not seem all that important, but the overture is one of the most important moments of the show.”  Bennet took another bite and nodded along.  

I explained to Bennet that the overture is significant because it establishes the themes and moods of the show.  And a really good musical overture plants a seed in your ear, so that when you hear the same tunes or riffs later in the show, the music draws a red thread through the narrative.  The overture sets the mood. It presents the themes. It essentially makes you a promise about what is to come. And, if it’s a musical by Andrew Lloyd Weber, then you’ll essentially the entire show in the overture.   

And as we listened to the overture for Wicked, Bennet and I discussed the various musical themes.  The riff for “No One Mourns the Wicked.” The teaser for “Unlimited” the transition between minor and major chords and the resolutions that symbolize and preface the overarching narrative.  

Certain to say that Bennet was enamored by the conversation of overtures and preludes.

The use of preludes and overtures goes well beyond Broadway musicals, doesn’t it?  Think about some of your favorite move trilogies or sagas. The opening of Star Wars?   Indiana Jones. Jurassic Park? Home Alone. Harry Potter… Well, I guess anything by John Williams.   

In literature, we often think of the foreword and preface as a sort of prelude to the Author’s work.  They often introduce themes, moods, or motivations behind the narrative that follows. 

Certainly, one of our most common encounters with the power of preludes is in worship.  Each and every time we gather for worship, we begin with a musical offering. We commonly refer to it as a prelude.  And the final piece as a postlude. But within worship, especially here at St. Mark’s, it is so much more than that.  

We are truly blessed to have a cantor that is incredibly talented and gifted, not only with his abilities, but with musical knowledge, insight, history, and diversity as well.  Each and every time we gather for worship, we begin with an Opening Voluntary, or prelude. And I don’t mean to speak for Tony, but I’m confident to say that Tony does not pick a prelude or opening voluntary for prelude’s sake.  He doesn’t choose a piece of music haphazardly or flippantly. Each piece is selected with discernment and care because the opening voluntary, the prelude of our worship, establishes a mood. It sets a tone. It often previews musical and theological themes.  It makes a promise, and that promise becomes fulfilled throughout the course of worship. 

More often than not, Tony selects an opening voluntary that is arranged around a particular hymn we sing later in worship.  Or the text of the voluntary is rooted in the texts of the day. And to be sure, Tony takes special care to account for the melody, the tone, the tempo, the setting, the arrangement, etc, so that the opening piece is a precursor to the rest of worship.  

Even today, our St. Mark’s ringers played “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus,” and the arrangement used two different tunes for the well-known hymn.  That piece set the tone for our worship, establishing themes of longing, anticipation, movement, hope, and in the end a tension between the two settings, both conveying the same text, but with different, inter-laying melodies that ring balance to the difficult now and not yet of our Christian faith.  Celebrating the coming of the Emmanuel - God with us, while dancing with eagerness, waiting for the second coming of Christ.

Preludes are important, intentional contributions to the overall work or narrative.  In fact, by definition, a prelude serves as an introduction preceding and preparing for the principal or a more important matter.  It is essential to the overarching event and it demands our careful and reflective attention. 

Now I say all of that because I think it is the perfect lens by which we should approach the season of Advent and our text for today.  Of all the seasons of the church year, Advent is consistently one of the shortest. It’s the first season, and it comes and goes with the blink of an eye.  The world we live in and the consumerist culture does not favor a slow, intentional, and meaningful seasons of anticipation.   

Sometimes Advent feels like the opening of our favorite TV show.  We know it. We’ve heard and seen it. So, we play on our need for instant gratification, use our technology and jump ahead 10, 15, even 30 seconds to get to the good stuff.  Fast forward through the opening credits.

Advent then becomes a steppingstone to a larger, more robust and drawn out story that we breeze right past it or snooze our way through it.  And if we’re not careful or intentional, we miss the power of these texts. We’ll miss the emphasis of their proclamation. The themes they establish.  The mood and tone of their delivery. If we’re not attentive to the season of prelude and precursor then we sacrifice our experience of the whole narrative. 

Matthew’s gospel account opens with an exhaustive and complete genealogy, laying out 28 generations from Abraham, to David, the Messiah.  Then the birth of Jesus is announced, and the wise men make their journey. Joseph and his family flee to Egypt and Herod sought out and killed all of the children in and around Bethlehem.  

And today, John the Baptist appears in the wilderness, fulfilling the words of the prophet Isaiah, proclaiming the arrival of the kingdom of God.  John the Baptist is our prelude to the Messiah. The voice of the one crying out in the wilderness. JTB is our overture to the coming of the Kingdom of God.  John the Baptist sets the tone. Establishes the mood. Presents the themes of the overarching narrative, and there is a reason for his place in the story. There’s a purpose for his overture.  

I think we would do very well to lend a careful and attentive ear in preparation for the whole of the gospel narrative. 

"Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near…Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.'  John’s appearance and proclamation establishes some very important themes.  

First, the kingdom of God has come near.  God’s reign is ever present. God’s love for God’s people becomes incarnated in the Emmanuel - the Christ child.  God has come down, to live among God’s people, vulnerable to the depths and fears of human emotion. God loves the people so much that God chooses to be among them and accompany them through the extremes of life, even death.  The kingdom has come near, and we do well to keep watch. To see the presence of God at hand.

Second, John proclaims that God’s kingdom will be far reaching, diverse, and more inclusive than they imagined.  Do not presume to say to yourselves, "We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.” 

God’s good kingdom is not and will not be exclusive to the descendants of Abraham, but rather there is a place for all people all nations.  The Kingdom of heaven is expansive and diverse. We do well to keep watch for the breadth and depth of God’s kingdom.

Third, repentance is central to the coming of God’s kingdom and the reign of the Emmanuel.  John cries out, “repent for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”   

This prelude is immediately realized a chapter later when Jesus begins his earthly ministry with the exact same phrase, “Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”   

John presents an important and powerful theme that will play out again and again as Jesus encounters people throughout his ministry.  Repentance is more than an apology or an admission of wrongdoing. It’s not about dwelling our mistakes and confession of sin.  Repentance is a complete turning around.  

Repentance means to turn away from poor values, unjust practices, and sinful behavior.  To deny false idols and self-righteousness. Repentance is a turn towards. A returning to God and the values of God’s good kingdom at hand.   

Repentance is an intentional first step in a new direction. A new and different path.  It’s to charter a new course, veer in a new way, set forth a new destination. We would do well to keep watch for the power of repentance and forgiveness as we go forward.   

This is the power and conviction of John the Baptist’s proclamation.  It is the power of Advent as a prelude to the rest of the liturgical year and the gospel narrative.  In Advent we set a new path, re-recognize the themes of our identity. We set the tone and establish the mood.  Advent is the gift and opportunity to reclaim the gift of repentance and turn towards God. 

Looks friends, Advent is such an important season in the year of the church.  It presents a valuable and essential foundation to the truths of faith we share.  In this season, we wait for the Lord. Not only for the Emmanuel born at Christmas, but we remember again our desperate longing to the coming again of God’s only son to reconcile all people, all nations, all times.

And we do well this brief but powerful Advent season to relish in the motifs of our faith.  To embrace the salvific themes of God’s goodness. To be attentive, intentional, and careful as we embark on the narrative of our faith and the fulfillment of God’s promise to the world once again.

The season of Advent...season of anticipation and longing...of waiting and eagerness, plays out like the brilliant overture.  This season makes us a promise...a promise of God that the kingdom is at hand. It is expansive, diverse, and inclusive. A promise the God’s kingdom will be like none-other and will not be ruled as the world expects.  The promise of Advent is God’s abiding and grace-filled presence in the Christ-child, Emmanuel. 

Let the overture play.  Let our hearts be attuned.  Let our souls be filled. Let our Spirit yearn for the story to be told.  Be present in this moment, for God’s promise will be fulfilled.

Amen.

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached by Sunday Dec. 8, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran JAX, FL

A single flame - Sermon on Matthew 2:1-12 - 01.06.2019

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, ² asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage." ³ When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; ⁴ and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. ⁵ They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: ⁶ "And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.' " ⁷ Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. ⁸ Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." ⁹ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. ¹⁰ When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. ¹¹ On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. ¹² And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

 

Today is a significant day, not only because it’s Epiphany, but because I, as a preacher and pastor have reached what I believe to be a Rite of Passage in my preaching career.  In fact, I think it’s a significant moment in every pastor’s career. It’s the moment that I decide I really want to share a relevant story to start my sermon today, but I can’t remember if and when I might have already told it.

So, let me preface by saying, if you’ve already heard this story, I’m sorry to be repetitive.   And I hope, despite the repetition, that it might resonate with you today. On this day of Epiphany.  And to be certain, as I continue to grow in wisdom and age here at St. Mark’s, this undoubtedly won’t be the last time I repeat myself.  

In the mountains of Tennessee, near Chattanooga, there is a place called Ruby Falls.  Ruby Falls is the nation’s tallest and deepest underground waterfall. In 2007, dad and I took a tour a Ruby Falls.  We entered the elevator and descended nearly 1200 feet below Lookout Mountain.

And as the doors opened, we stepped into a large cavern, busy with tourists.   And just beyond the souvenir stands and food vendors was this enormous waterfall, Ruby Falls.  It was backlit with red flood lights, making it look like...well...Ruby. The falls were named after the discoverer’s wife, Ruby.

Once in the cavern we joined our tour group. The tour would take us deeper into the cave system, so we could take in the stalagmite and stalactites and the wonders of naturally made beauty.  After walking a way, we stepped through a big metal door frame into what I would call a dead end… a nightmare for anyone claustrophobic. Once we gathered in the room, the big metal door slammed behind us.  Our tour guide said, “don’t panic...I’m going to turn off the lights.”

He turned off the lights and gave us a minute to adjust.  He then said, “you are now standing in completely darkness.”  100% darkness….” The room was completely deprived of light. And he told us that no matter what we did or how hard we tried, we would never be able to see even our hand in front of our face.  And what’s even more terrifying is that he said if we stayed down there long enough, eventually we would become temporarily blind because we weren’t using our sense of sight.

Now here’s the fun part, and I had no idea this was a thing.  But he said that actually if you take your hands and rub them together like this really fast, eventually the static friction between your hands would create a warm blue glow.

After about a minute of everyone furiously rubbing their palms together, he cracked and said, I’m just kidding.  That’s not true.

Then he said, “Let me show you something that is infinitely true.  He said, “no matter how dark it may be, even in 100%, complete darkness, the light of a single flame can illumine an entire room.  A single flame has the power to overcome and dispel the darkness.” He struck a lighter, and instantly we were able to once again see our own hand, our neighbor.  And after enough time, we could see across the room.”

A single flame has the power to overcome and dispel the darkness.  Even in complete, oppressive darkness, a single flame gave us vision, direction, and hope.

That is Epiphany.  That is the manifestation of Christ to the whole world.  That’s the power of God incarnate, born to the world to live, breath, reign, and rule as a king of kings, a lord of lords, and wonderful counselor, and a mighty prince of peace.  Christ as the Messiah, Emmanuel - God with us.

A single flame ignited in the dark to drive away the darkness.  To overcome sin, death, and the devil. To dispel the oppressive darkness in the world.

The celebration of Epiphany is a celebration that the light of Christ shines in the darkness and the darkness does not, cannot, and will not ever overcome it.  It is a celebration that God has become incarnate and taken on life for the sake of the whole world. All people. All nations. All Races. From the shepherds of the fields watching their sheep by night to wisemen in the East.  

Every year on Epiphany we hear this story from Matthew.  The story of wise men from the East, journeying to Bethlehem, guided only by a star, to see the child that has been born king of the Jews.  

Tradition has romanticized this story.  We have grown to appreciate the sentimentality of three wise men bringing three gifts worthy of a king.  Tradition has gone so far to name these three wise men and predict their origin. Melchior, Caspar, and Balthazar.  

The reality is, we don’t know how many wise men there were or even exactly where they came from.  All we know is that they were born into a priestly lineage within a religion that valued the reading of stars.  They were astrologists, reading the sky. And their place within scripture is recognized on Epiphany to celebrate the reach and breadth of the message of God with us in the birth of Christ.  The story of the wise men marks the overwhelming inclusiveness of God’s love and salvation through Jesus. From the shepherds of the field to the wise men in the east.

Through Christmas and Epiphany, we celebrate and remember that God’s promised Messiah is for all people.  God’s love incarnate in the world to live, breathe, and save is for all peoples. All places. All nations.  All races.

That the light of Christ has been born among us to ignite the world with a promise of everlasting love, peace, grace, and above all, hope.  The love of God shines in the darkness, revealing the way for all people, restoring hope to all nations.

But I think there is another important story to be told on this day of Epiphany.  The text tells us that “When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; ⁴ and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born…

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. ⁸ Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.

“So that I may also go and pay him homage.”  Let’s be clear that homage in this case does not mean public honor and respect.  King Herod’s motives are not out of admiration or mutual respect. Herod, frightened and worried, wanted to find the new born king of the Jews because he was threatened.  

He knew good and well, not only of the prophecy of a Messiah born from the lineage of David, but he knew that he was not that king.  He was not of the prophesied lineage and therefore not the king of kings. And some day, if prophecies were fulfilled, his reign as king might be usurped.  

And let’s remember that shortly after Jesus is born, Joseph, Mary, and the new born king of the Jews flee to Egypt as refugees because King Herod out of fear and terror orders all children 2 and under to be killed in and around Bethlehem.   An entire generation of children killed because Herod feared his power was at risk.

On this day of Epiphany, we celebrate the light of Christ shining in the darkness...giving way to vision, direction, and hope.  Revealing the way for all people. Epiphany calls us to proclaim this message of hope. To remind the world that even in the darkest situations, the light of Christ, a single flame, has the power to overcome and dispel all darkness.

But I think there is another power to this light.  The brighter the light shines, the more it is reflected, the stronger it burns and the more it unveils.   

In our new house Sarah and I have hardwood floors throughout the entire house.  And many of you know that we have a dog. A husky. A very hairy husky. He sheds like it’s his job and hobby. And for the most part you don’t notice the dog hair all over the floor.

But when I pull out the vacuum, plug it in, and turn it on...there is a small light on the front of the vacuum cleaner and it just illuminates every single strand of dog hair.  The way the light hits the hardwood at such a low angle….1000s of hairs that were previously unseen become ever so present.

That’s the power of the light of Christ. The light of love, truth, justice, grace, forgiveness, and peace.   

It burns to shed a light on the fractures and cracks of society.  Light to illumine darkness and unveil injustice. Light to convict wrongdoing, and false witness.

Light shines not only to the lowest, least, and last among us, like shepherds in the field watching their flock by night, empowering a renewed sense of hope and promise.  

But the light also shines to reveal the brokenness of creation...so the mighty and self-righteous might be cast from their thrones.  

If the light of a single flame can illuminate a single room, giving way to vision and hope then how much more powerful can the promise of God in the Emmanuel burn with each of us. Empowering the body of Christ to burn as a beacon of hope, casting truth in the face of fear, hate, and terror.  

That is Epiphany. God’s fulfilled promise to be among us.  As the Messiah. To clothe the downtrodden, faint of heart, discarded, and hopeless in the light of love, truth, grace, and hope…

To expose and convict the brokenness of the world.  Even to the point of death.

Friends, there is no doubt that we continue to live in a dark, broken world.  The cracks run deep and there is so much darkness….so much oppressiveness, sin, injustice, hate, fear, terror, and brokenness that needs to be illuminated.

But let me tell you something that is infinitely true.  The light of Christ still shines this day. In all places.  For all people. In all nations. For all races. And At all times.  The light of Christ shines and it cannot, and will not ever by extinguished.  Especially by darkness. There is nothing we can do about that…. except perhaps fan the flame, reflect the light, and proclaim the good news...until all the brokenness of the world is unveiled, and brought forth to repent, believe, and be made whole.

That is the invitation and power of Epiphany.    Amen.

Attentiveness - Sermon on Luke 2:1-22 - Christmas Eve

Luke 2:1-14 [15-20]

1 In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.² This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria.³ All went to their own towns to be registered.⁴ Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David.⁵ He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child.⁶ While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child.⁷ And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.⁸ In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.⁹ Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.¹⁰ But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people:¹¹ to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.¹² This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger."¹³ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,¹⁴ "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!" [15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us."¹⁶ So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger.¹⁷ When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child;¹⁸ and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.¹⁹ But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.²⁰ The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.]

Sermon

There’s a profound sense of attentiveness this night.  I wish you could see what I see. Ya know, every week I stand in the pulpit and read from the gospel.  Typically, the majority of folks are reading along in their bulletin. A few are looking at me as a I read, but most are readinging along.  

But on a night like tonight, there is a intriguing sense of awareness and attentiveness.   Tonight when the gospel was read, a few eyes followed along in the bulletin, but an above average amount of people looked to me as I read.  Or rather, looked to the gospel as it was proclaimed. 

There is a profound sense of attentiveness this night.  Now whether that attentiveness comes from genuine intrigued, fascination, and wonder with what God is up to in this story...or if it is rooted in “yah, we know the story, hurry up and get to the good stuff so we can get back home to our presents and packages, our dinners and cookies...our family traditions ...or bed.  Either way, tonight’s proclamation of the gospel beckons us into a renewed sense of wonder and attentiveness.

That nativity story is one of great familiarity.  Perhaps we can’t all recite it perfectly with its many details and nuances, but I suspect the majority of us gathered here can paraphrase it with confidence.   It is the same gospel story proclaimed every single year on Christmas Eve, and even if this is your first time worshipping in a Lutheran church on Christmas Eve, I would venture to guess that we all know what to expect this night.  The Spirit has brought us all together in this place, and I doubt there was much question as to what passage might be read from scripture.

It’s a familiar story, and we’re glad to hear.  And I think the familiarity of the story makes us extra attentive and aware not because we’re eagerly waiting to hear something new, discover a new angle or detail, uncover some new nugget from within the story that will blow our minds… I think the heightened attentiveness and awareness is because we know the story so well and we rely on this night, we depend on this story because it is constant.  It is certain. It is reliable. 

So That no matter what is going on in our world...no matter the consternation, brokenness, or despair….the nativity story remains a light of hope.  A beacon of love that proclaims a God who is abundantly up to good… A reminder that God defied all expectations and fulfilled a promise to intimately abide with the world through Jesus Christ - the Emmanuel.

In tonight’s story, a young, unwed, and unexpectedly now pregnant couple are required, mandated to return to their place of family origin to be counted in the census.  The requirement comes as a decree from Emperor Augustus for all the world to be counted. So they journey to Bethlehem, not by choice but by obligation. 

They traveled wearily for days only to be un-welcomed as though they are strangers in a foreign land.  They didn’t feel welcome. There was no place for them to stay. No room. They were lost and alone in the city of Bethlehem.  And even though they were filled with the promise of God in the form of a baby child...the bearer of God made flesh had no place to lay her head.  

In tonight’s story the shepherds, minding their own business were keeping watch over their flocks by night.  They were on high alert with intent listening in order to protect the flock. And all due respect to Shepherds, but in that day they did not hold a very high status on the vocational totem poll.  They were filthy, dirty, overworked, and underpaid. They worked long hours and slept outside with animals. They were at the bottom of the first century socio-economic world. 

And in tonight’s story, the story we so dearly love, God acts in the most scandalous way.  God becomes incarnate in the form of a baby boy, born to a lowly, unwelcomed and wandering family, born in a setting least suited for a king.  Casting the mighty and powerful aside, the heavenly angels declare good news to the poor and lowly. 

The angels go to the fields and seek out the discarded and underappreciated shepherd workers and says Today...we bring you good news of great joy for all the people, because a Today a baby is born and that baby is God’s son.  And he is the Messiah. He will reign in such a way that the world could never expect. 

And Honestly, at its surface, nothing about this story makes sense.  Nothing about is deserving of a headline or media frenzy. Nothing about this unknown, unwelcomed couple having an illegitimate child in an unsavory location in the middle of the night is cause for any attention.  There is no reason for the world to care. There is no reason for the world to listen to shepherds proclaiming all they’ve seen and heard.

And yet, here we are this Christmas eve to hear the familiar story.  With eager anticipation and an attentive ear we lean into something faithful.  Something reliable. Something genuine. Something true. 

I think we trust this story and its place within our lives because it is a proclamation of truth and hope in amidst a world ravaged by false testimony, unfaithful witness, insecurity,... a world that can be experienced as luring and deceptive, bearing false hope to those least, last, and lost. 

We tune our ear, like shepherds in a field by night, to the glory of God’s victory.   In this precious moment we remember that God took on flesh, for the sake of the whole world.  God became incarnate to live and breath among us. To wander in wade in the experiences of life.  To know true joy among family and friends and to dwell in the deepest moments of grief. God became incarnate to share in the breadth of human emotions and experiences, even to the point of death on a cross.  

And I think we’re so attentive to this oh so familiar story because we know the ending.  

We know the completeness of God’s work in the world.  

We know that this Christ child, born of lowly parents in a place not worthy of being called a bed or home...we know this Christ child, the emmanuel, God with us changes the world.  Changes the course of humanity by flipping the world’s expectations and proclaiming a message of hope, life, love, and peace to the whole world, especially those considered the lowest among us.

We attend to the scandal of this night--God breaking forth to dwell among us, in the vulnerable moments of human existence because the proclamation is reliable.  It’s truth. It’s promise. It’s hope. It’s for you and me, and for the whole world.

And while the world might work desperately and tirelessly to oppose this message of hope...as the world bends, fractures, and breaks...dividing, distorting, and abusing relationships….as the world lures us to believe that wealth, power, status, and self indulgence is life giving or life saving….God humbles the world. 

Through a virgin named Mary and a man named Joseph, God blesses us with divine presence.  For no other reason than the fact that God loves us that much.

So dear friends, while we lean into God’s victory tonight...as we tune in attentively to the old, reliable, message of hope.  May it be a reminder that God is still just as active among us today. Christ, the emmanuel, being born among us is but a turning point in a the greater narrative of God’s hope for the world. 

May this night, this O so holy night, be a reminder...No, an invitation to remain attentive.  Attentive not only to the glory of God in the story of Jesus, but attentive and alert to the work of God here and now.  The power of God among us today...casting the mighty down from their thrones and uplifting the lonely. 

Like shepherds in the field, attentive to their flock and their lives...may we keep watch, be alert...heighten our awareness because 

Dear siblings in Christ….Tonight we proclaim good news of great joy!  For us and for our salvation, a child is born this day in the city of David. a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.  Emmanuel

Amen. 

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Dec. 24, 2018 @ St. Mark's JAX

What Brings You Here? - Christmas Eve Sermon

Listen to the sermon here.

Luke 2:1-20

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. ²This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. ³All went to their own towns to be registered. ⁴Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. ⁵He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child.⁶While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. ⁷And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. ⁸In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. ⁹Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.¹⁰But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: ¹¹to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. ¹²This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” ¹³And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ¹⁴“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” ¹⁵When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” ¹⁶So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. ¹⁷When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; ¹⁸and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. ¹⁹But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. ²⁰The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

What brings you here, to this place tonight?  What brings you here?  Have you come to see the Messiah?  Are you here to experience the birth of a long-awaited and promised king.  Are you driven by curiosity, and you’re here to see for yourself if the good news it true?  Are you here by routine, because this is what you always do on Christmas Eve.  What brings you here this night? Are you forced to be present at the nativity this night, whether by coercion or guilt or appeasement of a loved one?

I think that perhaps there is very little doubt as to what the service is about.  ho it is that we are waiting for and why we are celebrating at 4/11:00pm.  I suspect most of us know the familiar nativity story, with all of its tradition and theological depth.  With its odd layers of census, stable, and shepherds.  I suspect we’re all familiar with what happens this night, but what is it that brings you here this night, this O So Holy night, this silent nigh, this Christmas night?  

Tonight’s gospel text is one of familiarity.  Certainty. Perhaps we can’t recite all of the details and nuances, but I suspect the majority of us can paraphrase it.  This story has been popularized through song, stop-animation films, children’s pageants, movies, TV shows, and cantatas…

It’s a story so widely known that perhaps we gather this night not desperate for something new or insightful, but rather for something constant, certain, reliable.  That no matter what is going on in our world, we gather with hope beyond hope, and in certainty that Christ is born to us this night.  We gather in confidence that no matter where life leads, no matter what direction it points,  no matter the temptations or sins of this world, we know that the promise of God is fulfilled this night in Jesus Christ.  Emmanuel. God with us.  What brings you here?

In tonight’s story, a young couple, unwed and unexpectedly now pregnant are required to go to Bethlehem.  The requirement comes from a decree for the all of the world to be counted, and so there presence in Bethlehem isn’t necessarily one of choice but rather obligation.  The travel wearily for days only to be welcomed as strangers in a foreign land.  They didn’t feel as though they “fit” in, and the not-so-warm “no room” given by every guest house didn’t help.  They were lost and alone in the city of Bethlehem, but they had to be there that night.

In tonight’s story there are shepherds watching their flock by night.  Now all due respect to shepherds, but they didn’t hold a very high regard in society.  We don’t refer to them as lowly shepherds for no reason.  They were filthy, overworked and underpaid servants, with very little to their name.  For the most part they were only know if they failed at their job.   The shepherds are visited by an angel, a heavenly vision, greeted with good news of great joy, for a savior is born in the city of David.  And this shall be a sign for you; you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.  The shepherds travel to Bethlehem with curiosity and intrigue.  They’ve had a dramatic and spiritual experience that drives them from their fields, their comfort of life, to find something unexpected in Bethlehem this night. To find something life-changing.  I suspect they don’t know what they’re looking for or what they’ll find, but they know that they must visit this night.

In Matthew’s account of tonight’s story there are Magi, wise men.  These men hold a place of status in a busy world.  They are brilliant astrologers, and are regarded by society as scientists. They are led to Bethlehem by a star at its rising and wish to pay the new king of the jews homage.  They are side tracked by king Herod and ordered to find the baby and report back.  They’re journey to Bethlehem is marked by tension and confusion.  They know they want to find this Christ child in order to pay him respect, and when they do, these wise, brilliant, scholars bow to the feet of this new born baby.  

It seems no matter the road traveled, or the walk of life they come from their social status, or occupation…none of that seems to matter as they all find their way to Bethlehem.  For their various reasons...whether mandated, coerced, curious, inspired, confused, or intrigued...they are led by God to this place, Bethlehem, on this night.  

Friends the good news this night is that no matter your reason for being here, no matter your walk of life, no matter your occupation, status, sex, gender, ethnicity, race, or preference.  God invites you here...to this pace...to be a part of God’s story on this night and always to witness the promise of God fulfilled in Jesus Christ the Messiah.  

God invites us into the comfort and assuredness of God’s salvation story, that born to us this night in the city of david is a savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.  God brings you here, to this place, on this night.

And if we believe that to be true, then perhaps the question isn’t what brings you here, but rather how has the good news in Bethlehem, in this place this night changed you?  How does the good news this night affect you?  

What will your proclamation be when you leave Bethlehem this O so holy night, this silent night.  

Like shepherds who returned glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, or like wise men traveling home by a different road as to not let word get out that they had found the Messiah.  When you return to the business of life from this place of certainty and promise, this manger of hope and forgiveness, what will your proclamation be?

I guess the good news is that as much as God invites us here this night, God sends us out as well.  God goes with us from Bethlehem.  Because Jesus Christ, the Messiah, Emmanuel is born to you this night.

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached at St. Mark's Jacksonville, FL on 12.24.2017